Chisato Madison, Ace Reporter
by Gabriel Ice
Summary: [Chapter 2 up] Chisato's new life on Ananga gets off to a rocky start.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Chisato Madison's only priority before leaving hte newspaper office forever was stealing as many office supplies as she could. _The Cross Chronicle_'s final edition had gone out the previous day, and all the employees had to clean out their desks in time for the owners to show the building to some potential buyers. Some internet types, apparently. Chisato could only growl at the irony of the situation. Only a few years earlier, she had led the information technology revolution that had modernized Expel and brought the planet to the point where it could join the Federation. Sadly, she had introduced computer technology too quickly; since newspapers did not have enough time to take root and gain a loyal following, they had all failed shortly after she helped develop the first Expellian information superhighway. With Nede destroyed and the fledgling news industry of Expel devoured alive by hordes of mindless bloggers, Chisato found herself out of a job.

Her work alongside master engineer Precis F. Neumann may have gained Chisato all the fame she could have asked for, and with it untold riches and as many do-nothing gigs as she could shake a fat stick at, but settling down and living a life of comfort and nothing else did not appeal to her. She could not separate herself from her passion. Reporting – real, newspaper reporting – was part of Chisato's identity. It was, if such a thing were at all possible, in her blood. Absolutely nothing else she could do with her life could make her happy if she did not have her passion to sustain her.

And that was why she had to leave everything behind. She had to uproot herself and land someplace where she could live life the way she needed to live life. To Chisato Madison, Expel could never be home. Expel was the precocious brat that had skipped its way past the beauty of youth and had become a jaded, cynical, artless world, overdeveloped before its time. Chisato's new home would be someplace that had not skipped over the phase in which its people could appreciate her art. Her new home would be someplace that had mastered the typewriter and perhaps the digital keyboard but not the quick home publishing software. Her new home would be someplace that knew how much it needed people like her.

Finding such a home would be easy enough. Chisato was famous and rich enough to commission some gullible engineers to build her a private spacecraft, christened the _Madison SkyWriter_, with interplanetary traveling range and, most importantly, no official registration with the Federation. Official registration would mean someone somewhere would know where she was, and because her intention was to find an underdeveloped planet on which to pursue her newspaper career, she had no desire to risk getting caught violating the Underdeveloped Planet Protection Pact. Still, she also did not wish to become stranded anywhere; her solution was to make a deal with Precis Neumann. She would carry a deep space communicator with her, and she would keep in touch with Precis, and Precis would promise not to turn her in. In case of emergency, Precis could bail her out, preferably without the Federation noticing.

After much careful consideration, Chisato and Precis had chosen the lonely yet temperate planet Ananga for Chisato's destination. The journey was long yet easy, and the _Madison SkyWriter_ held up marvelously to the task. As the planet finally came into view, Chisato glanced one final time at the map of the major landmasses and settlements before sitting back and letting the autopilot take her toward her chosen landing site. Precis had fixed the onboard navigation system so as to make the landing process completely automatic; the delicate calculations involved could not be left up to anything less than a powerful computer, unless the pilot's desire was something along the lines of crashing as spectacularly as possible, and even then, a computer could still help optimize the crash. As Chisato descended into the atmosphere, she took in her new surroundings, and she typed up the first of what would be many journal entries she would send back to Precis..

_Ananga has come into view for the first time. I am surprised at how little anxiety I feel, starting over like this. I suppose were I thinking everything through rationally I would concern myself with the wisdom of jumping off into the middle of a strange land, a newspaper reporter version of a lost soul looking for a home. And yet, I have already grown attached to this new place. This is, in some sense already, my home. Just writing these words, knowing that you will read them and perhaps pass them on to a few friends (and I do mean a few!) fills me with the joy I have not had since the announcement that the Chronicle went bankrupt. I have my purpose here, and I have my one true love. That is all I need to look forward to in order to know I will be happy. I hope to have more good news to report in the near future, and I mean that in both ways. I hope to report to you, and I hope to report to the Anangans about whatever news worthy of reporting I manage to uncover. Finally, I thank you again for your unwavering support and indispensable aid in making this dream come true for me. You and the others are the best friends a woman could ask for. As I draw this entry to a close, I note that I am nearing the landing point, and I have already gone over my strategy for establishing my reputation, once again, as Chisato Madison, Ace Reporter. My eyes are about to water with happiness. _

_Yours, Chisato Madison_


	2. Cold Mountain

Cold Mountain

The _Madison Skywriter_ soared through the skies of Ananga, not like a carefree and majestic bird, but like a bug attempting to evade a rolled up newspaper. Blizzard winds whipped it back and forth, and blinding snow made any attempt at traditional navigation an exercise in futility. Chisato had flown into a storm.

Most of the flashing, beeping, and shining instruments on the control panel in front of her told Chisato that she was on course, but all of the shaking and wobbling still unnerved her. Ananga's welcome certainly fell in the bottom half of her list of memorable receptions.

A particularly heavy spot of turbulence rocked the ship, and Chisato grimaced as a few warning klaxons bleated at her. The pen she kept behind her left ear slipped and fell down beside her seat; she pounded the armrest in frustration. Storm debris pelted the view portal ahead of her, clearly audible but just barely visible through the snow. Another warning siren groaned at her, and she clutched her chair as tights as she could, as if holding on for dear life.

Then, an even louder crashing sound signaled the end as the ship slowed to a halt and touched down in the middle of a forest.

The trees resembled the sort of thing Chisato remembered from her childhood on Nede. They were tall and still green, even in the snow, and they made a pretty good ceiling for hiding from the elements. A few short button clicks activated the view portal's ice removers, causing a heating device to melt away all the snow blocking her view; Chisato then saw that, though there was plenty of snow piled deep on the ground outside, somewhat less of it fell through the branches above, at least at the moment. She could at least see well enough that she figured she could walk around outside, provided the accumulated snow wasn't too deep.

_Perfect landing_, she thought. She folded her arms behind her head and reclined in her Captain's Chair for a minute while she waited for her heart rate to slow back down to normal. When she felt up to the task, she unbuckled herself, stood up, and made for the _Skywriter_'s storage area.

_Coat, coat_, Chisato said to herself. _Must find a coat._

A few options presented themselves to her: her classy blue blazer; a stylish brown fleece number with her name embroidered on the breast pocket; a tacky plaid coat, given to her as a gift at an office party; and a heavy parka with extra pockets inside for protecting valuables in snowy weather. Chisato picked up the blazer and the parka and put the rest into a storage locker. She slipped the parka on over her shirt.

The rest of what she needed already sat inside a heavy duty duffel bag, ready to go. This included a modern medical kit, some writing and printing software, a few of her favorite books, her communicator, some canisters of tear gas, and a multipurpose survival tool she had picked up on the black market back on Nede. Dubbed the MultiTeX (pronounced "multi-tech"), it was more or less a fancier electronic version of a Swiss army knife and a tracking system rolled into one, with some extra tools for negotiating difficult terrain built in. The most important at the moment was the heat system, which she could use to melt through snow in case of emergency.

Two more items interested Chisato before she made her way for the exit. The first was her Electron Gun, for self defense, and the second was a small homing beacon hanging from the wall. Chisato flipped a switch on the beacon. It began emitting a monotonous beeping noise, and, less noticeably, talking to the locator equipment in the travel bag. A few wires ran from the beacon to the ship's deep space transmitter, its main computer, and its engines.

_All saddled up here then. Time to head out. One small step for me…_

With that Chisato pulled open the exit hatch and took her first step into a larger world.

XXX

_Better than being seen, I guess._ Chisato trudged for the leeward side of a large tree while fighting against the biting wind. Even in the relative shelter of the forest, the snow still came down hard enough to make the going rough for her, but it was worth it. Mountain snow wouldn't melt away, and that along with the tree cover would keep the _Madison Skywriter_ away from the prying eyes of the locals. Landing in a blizzard was at worst a mixed blessing.

Still, it made getting down the mountain problematic. Her charts had told her that she merely had to survive a few miles to get to the foot, where she would not have far to go to reach civilization, but a few miles in a snowstorm can feel like an insurmountable obstacle.

_What to do? What to do?_ Chisato twiddled her thumbs as much as her gloves would allow. _This has to be the best landing spot, but I'll die if I stay out here too long. I don't want to risk drowning any electronic equipment, so I'd best hurry, but… Oh! _

An idea struck her. It required making her way back to the ship, but that was a necessary evil. A minute of struggle later, she disappeared inside, only to emerge carrying a pair of skis and two ski poles.

Though the howling wind drowned her voice out completely, Chisato shouted aloud, "Next stop, Village of Shimo!"


End file.
